Tis the day before Easter
by stacks.of.books
Summary: Slow burn over a number of holidays beginning in November. This is the 6th in the series.


Andy tightened her fingers into a fist before opening them quickly. God it was cold.

"Are we done?" she asked Nigel. She wasn't even sure why she was up at the photoshoot when she was only supposed to be interviewing Cormac McCarthy at the lodge, which she had done yesterday.

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Originally she wasn't even supposed to be in Montana. Adam who was supposed to be doing the interview and Andy had planned on spending a quiet Easter at home. Adam had been hit by car while on a motorcycle and although he was relatively fine, a broken leg, pins in one ankle, shattered wrist and a slight concussion; he wasn't able to fly out to Big Sky Montana. Who takes life and death risks a week before landing one of the biggest interviews Runway has ever had? Regardless, she knew why she was tagging along on the plane with the rest of the staff of Runway as they shot a spread for next winter. She just didn't know why she was here, with Nigel, freezing in the snow instead of waiting at the lodge.

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"Hmm?" Nigel kept his eyes firmly focused on the images flashing across his screen.

"Are we done? Nig, I'm freezing here." Andy shivered as he looked up.

"Oh, yeah, sorry, yeah, we're done here. Go over to the tent," he waved to the slightly warmer tent area, "I'll be right there." He snapped the cover closed on his IPad before he walked over to the photographer.

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Andy headed over to the tent; maybe in a few minutes she'd be able to feel her finger tips. She poured a rapidly chilling cup of coffee and looked around. It really was beautiful. The clouds had begun gathering around the mountain peaks but the sun still shone overhead. She had seen the storyboard for the shoot. It looked great and from the raw pictures she had seen Nigel flipping though, it looked like the pictures would live up to the storyboard for once. Miranda would be pleased. Speak of the devil, she thought as she sipped the coffee, letting it warm her from the inside. She watched Miranda head towards Nigel. Andy hadn't seen much of her in the last week. Although to be fair, with Adam suddenly not able to travel she had been very busy. It really all started on St. Patrick's Day. After waking up with the worse hangover since freshman year at Northwestern, she stumbled out of Nigel's apartment and headed to her own home in Brooklyn, where she turned off her phone and slept her weekend away. Monday delivered the news about Adam prompting a full melt down in her department as they figured out who'd come to Montana and interview Cormac McCarthy. He'd only do the interview at the lodge and only at the agreed time. Apparently his youngest son was an avid snowboarder and he was accompanying him on vacation before returning to Santa Fe. It was a once in a lifetime interview and even if Runway wasn't Cormac's regular audience, neither was Oprah's and she sure as heck didn't pass on the chance to interview him. To be honest Andy still couldn't believe she had met him. Andy's musing was brought to an abrupt end as she noticed Miranda stalking towards her.

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"Take your time. I'll be at the car." Miranda murmured as she walked by, never stopping her walk.

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Having no idea what had happened, Andy chucked her lukewarm coffee in the bin and hurried over to Nigel. "What did Miranda mean?"

"Oh," he fished around in his pocket, "here." He handed over a set of keys.

"What? Why are you giving me keys?"

He rolled his eyes. "I think that you should understand what you do with car keys."

"No. You can't be serious. I'm not driving down this mountain with Miranda."

"Why not? She is a good driver." Nigel continued to look at the computer scene before he yelled out a new set of directions to the photographer.

"I thought you said we were done?"

"Oh well Miranda didn't like a shot, so we are waiting for the sun…it doesn't really matter. The point is we have to stay for another hour or so but you're free to go."

"That doesn't explain why I'm going down with Miranda," Andy said, while reaching for the keys. "Why am I driving with Miranda?" Andy paused and thought about how absurd this all was. Andy could feel her heart beat rapidly. Was this what a heart attack felt like? "Nigel, why did you make me leave the lodge?"

"I needed your help," he calmly answered his eyes on the screen.

Andy tilted her head, something in his voice was off. "Yes, that's what you said this morning at 5 am when you dragged me to breakfast, but I haven't helped at all."

"That's not true. You've gotten me coffee all day long."

At Andy's silence, he finally looked at her. "Look, in the long run, it doesn't matter. I don't need you anymore today. You're cold and Miranda wants to go now. Besides everyone is packing up," he pointed out. "And I got a call 15 minutes ago saying that there is snow coming, so we're just waiting for this shot and we're all out of here. Just go, get out of the cold and I'll see you tomorrow. Now hurry, you know how she likes waiting."

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Without more to say Andy hurried towards the car, where in fact Miranda was waiting. As Andy got closer, Miranda held out her hand. Andy dropped the keys into her hand before sliding into the passenger seat. "Are you sure you don't want me to drive," Andy asked when Miranda slid in.

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm more than capable of driving in the snow." Miranda threw the heat on full blast. "That should thaw you in a moment."

"I'm not really that cold," Andy tried to argue even as she felt the heat seeping into her cold fingers.

"Nonsense," she said raising one eyebrow, "your lips are an appalling shade of blue. I refuse to believe that you picked out a color that revolting."

Andy snapped her belt on and decided to just accept that the next 45 minutes we're going to be a quietly tense ride.

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It was only a few minutes into the drive that Andy felt her body start to sink into the heated seats, the leather nicely warmed. All seats should have heaters. She watched the snow banks pass as they drove. Trees lined both sides of the road. They passed in a blur of whites and greens and although she tried to stay awake, she felt herself dozing. Her head nodded. So she sat up straight and looked over at Miranda who was staring at the road, a look of concentration on her face. Andy felt herself staring. It was a beautiful face. She looked back at the trees. But the warmth of the car and the purr of the engine coupled with blurring color had Andy slowly blinking until finally she fell asleep.

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Only to be woken to a horrible feeling of queasiness. Andy's eyes snapped open and she turned her head to see Miranda's fingers clutching the steering wheel in a white knuckled grip. Andy felt the tires sliding without purchase across the ice slick roads. They were hydroplaning she thought. Only is it hydroplaning when it's ice she questioned as they slid towards the side of the road before plunging over the edge. It felt like time had slowed for a moment, just enough time to question the word hydroplaning but not enough to prepare for impact. Then bam, time speed up and everything hurt. There was a lack of sound at first and Andy was afraid to open her eyes but slowly the sound of Miranda, rougher than she had ever heard, asking her if she was alright filtered in. Breathing out a breath she didn't even know she was holding she turned her head.

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"Andréa. Andréa, are you okay?" Miranda reached up and Andy watched as her hands came closer and then she felt them slide over her face. Her skin felt tender as Miranda's questing fingertips ran over her lip, ow there must be a cut there, and then her nose. She closed her eyes and reveled in the feeling until Miranda pressed hard at her hairline before yanking her hand away. Blood dotted her finger tips and Andy's own fingers flew into her hairline, finding the small cut that Miranda had jabbed her fingers into.

"Ow…"

"Andréa are you okay," Miranda repeated slowly.

"Yeah, uh, yeah, I'm, I, uh," Andy shook her head to clear it but instead felt a headache bloom behind her eyes. "Yes, I'm okay. Banged up but," she paused to wiggle her toes, "okay I think." She looked over at Miranda. She saw light bruising around her left eye, might turn into a shiner tomorrow. "You?"

"I," Miranda closed her eyes and swallowed, "I'm alright also."

"What happen?" Andy reached for her belt. She needed to get out of the car. God she needed to call for help but mostly she needed to get out of the car. She jammed her fingers down on to the red release but it didn't work. She tried again. On the third time, Miranda caught her hands. Andy realized she was shaking.

"It's okay Andréa. We're safe and we are going to get out okay." Miranda calmly held her hand between her palms. It was then that Andy recognized that she was hyperventilating and tears were running down her face. "Relax and breathe with me." Miranda took Andy's hand and set it on her own chest. She could feel Miranda's heartbeat. "In," Miranda took a deep breath, "out. We're okay. In, out, we're okay." Andy focused on Miranda's tone, as she kept repeating "in, out, we're okay," her eyes never darting from Miranda's face, as her own breaths evened out and the tears stopped.

"Thank you." Andy tugged her hand away feeling embarrassed.

Miranda nodded and released the seat belt from Andy's side before her own. "I'll need your help getting out. The door is stuck and my shoe is caught."

"Is anything broken?" Andy moved to get out of the car. She hurried over to Miranda's side and opened the door from the outside. It seemed bent in and caught slightly on the frame. It was never going to close again, that was for sure. Andy kneeled to look at Miranda's foot.

"No, I can move my ankle and foot. It feels like the shoe is stuck."

Andy felt for Miranda's shoe. The heel of the boot was wedged between the pedals. She untied the laces. "Can you wiggle your foot out now?"

It took a moment but Miranda pulled her foot out of the boot and Andy was able to slide it out and back on to Miranda's foot. She let her retie her laces. "Anything else?"

"I'm okay I was just stuck."

"Okay." Andy helped her out and then remembered her phone in her pocket. She fished it out and saw it cracked and completely broken. "Great," She tossed it onto the floor of the car. She looked around and saw that they had been lucky. Although they had slid off the road, and down an embankment they had slammed just a single tree in the densely wooded area. The front of the car was caved in and the doors buckled a little but the rest of the car was undamaged. "Miranda, does your phone work?"

"Yes, but there's no signal."

Andy looked around. There wasn't anything around them but trees. They needed to get up to the road. The light was fading fast. The light was fading fast? She looked down at her watch.

"Miranda?" Andy looked at her watch again, maybe it was broken. It had to be broken. "What time is it?"

"A little after 7." Andy watched as Miranda reached into the car and pulled out her purse.

"But it was 5 when we left. We weren't driving that long."

Miranda's lips pressed tightly together, the skin whitening around them. Andy tried to think of what she said wrong. God, her head hurt. The no questions rule had been thrown out years ago. "You were," Miranda's voice shook and an almost sob leaked out, "you were passed out for so long. I couldn't reach you at first. I couldn't see if you were breathing and then…" she took a long shuddering breath before stopping.

"Oh, wow. Okay." Andy carefully made her way over to Miranda. She laid her hand on her forearm. "I'm okay. I'm mean besides my embarrassing melt down."

"It was adrenaline. There was nothing to be embarrassed about," Miranda interrupted, her voice still with a slight tremor.

"Right, so plan." Andy pushed passed the desire to hold Miranda and offer comfort. It wasn't the right time or place for that. It might never be. For now she needed to focus on them getting back down the mountain. Andy looked around; they weren't too badly dressed, stylish but still warm clothes. They would have been better off in ski jackets though. She could already feel the cold seeping in and snow was beginning to lazily drift down from the sky. Fat snowflakes, which would have been beautiful from the lodge window with a hot cup of coffee but stuck on the side of a road, it wasn't good. Most likely the start of the storm Nigel had been talking about. Neither of them had a waterproof layer.

"We should go up to the road. Nigel and the crew should be heading down."

Miranda shook her head. "I saw them pass 20 minutes ago."

"You saw them pass?" Andy felt her voice crack.

"What was I supposed to do? I..." Miranda's calm façade started to crumb before Andy's eyes.

"Of course, there was nothing you could do," Andy quickly reassured Miranda. "We should still go up. Obviously no one is going to see us down here. Ready?" Andy reached out and offered her hand. 2 hours ago she wouldn't have dared but now? She could have died and she no longer cared about appropriate. She could worry about appropriate when they got back to New York.

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Without a word, Miranda allowed Andy to guide them up the embankment. They started walking. "How long had we been driving before the crash," Andy asked.

"20 minutes maybe," Miranda answered, her hand still grasping Andy's.

Andy could feel her fingers and toes numbing. Walking faster would help keep them warm but she could already feel her body starting to ache and her headache seemed worse. 20 minutes out of a 45-ish minute drive. They'd never make it with the temperatures dropping but what choice did they have. Nigel wouldn't even start looking for them until tomorrow unless… "Were you supposed to meet Nigel tonight?"

"No, tomorrow afternoon. This was the last day of the shoot and I believe that everyone was going to spend tomorrow either at the hotel spa or skiing." Miranda stopped walking, pulling Andy to a dead stop. "You were going to see him tonight?"

"No. I was cold and tired and was looking forward to an early night and a lazy morning. We didn't make plans except to enjoy Easter dinner with everyone in the restaurant." Andy pulled on Miranda to get her walking.

"No one knows we're out here."

"No." Andy didn't say more. She knew it was bad. If she was hurt, tired and sore, she could only imaging how Miranda was feeling. She seriously doubted that Miranda was wearing enough layers. In fact, "Miranda, I..." Andy bit her lip as she tried to find a way to ask without sounding pervy but "what do you have on under your coat?" is what came out and by Miranda's facial expression pervy is exactly what came out. "I mean it's getting colder and layers are important and your outfit while very àl a Charade."

"You know Charade," Miranda interrupted.

"I know Audrey Hepburn," Andy continued. "What I'm saying Miranda is on a scale of 1-10, how cold are you?"

"How cold am I? I fail to see how that matters. The walk down this hill will go no faster."

There was little chance of frostbite at these temperatures; thank god it wasn't windy. It was more likely they'd get hypothermia with the snow falling down and seeping into their clothes. Andy willed her teeth not to chatter. They had been walking for 10 minutes and at the rate they were moving it would be another two or two and a half hours.

"Andréa your lips are blue again."

Andy shoved her hands into her pockets and willed them to walk faster.

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It had been another 10 minutes according to her watch but light was nearly gone. Twilight was quickly fading into true night and the snow was really falling. Andy could feel it as it melted down the back of her neck. She turned to look at Miranda, noting that her neck was really sore, when she saw it. There was a cabin off the road or maybe it wasn't a cabin but it had a roof and right now that was enough. Another 2 hours seemed impossible. "There." Andy stopped and pointed, grabbing Miranda's attention.

"There what?" Miranda tiredly asked.

"We are going to stay the night there." She pointed down the partially cleared drive at a structure in the distance. At Miranda's expression Andy hurried on, "It's snowing a lot now and it's nearly dark. There's at least another 2 hours before we get anywhere near town and as of right now I am too sore to continue. We need to find shelter."

Miranda just nodded.

Andy went first down the drive. She wasn't kidding about partially cleared. There was at least a foot of snow. When she cleared a path to the door she saw it was a hunting cabin. The windows we're boarded and little locks hung between the shutters.

"It's locked. I'm going to look at back." Andy darted away before Miranda could call her back. It reminded her of her Uncle's cabin. He had a shed in the back and as she turned the corner she saw that so did this family. She went into the shed. Ax, old snow shoes, 4 or 5 pairs of old skis, about a cord of small and large fire wood, and a second door into an outhouse. Miranda's going to be thrilled but beggars can't be choosers. Andy decided to grab the ax. Those locks were small; she should be able to break one with a couple of good swings. It was too dark to look for anything else now anyways. Grabbing the ax from the wall, she heard a tinkling. She blindly searched the floor and felt her fingers close around a key ring. Spare keys?

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She headed back to the front of the cabin where she left Miranda. "I found a shed out back with an ax and a set of keys. Hopefully we'll be able to get in, if not well at least there's a shed."

She heard rather than saw Miranda hmm. Andy felt the key hole on the front door and tried one of the larger keys. It didn't work. The next key was a little smaller but as it slid in, Andy could have cried. With a twist of a wrist she heard it unlock and she opened the door. It was pitch black in the house and opening the shutters wouldn't let in any light so she ignored those. Instead Andy slowly ran her hands along the walls around the door area. There didn't seem to be any power. Her hands came across something plastic hanging from a peg. A smile broke out and she pulled it off the peg and flipped it on. The flashlight flooded the room and Andy could see. It was like any hunting cabin she had ever been in. A large bed on the ground floor and a single bed in the loft; the living room had a sofa and a table. There was a cast iron stove in the corner with a kitchen next to it. She wasted no time pulling Miranda in and shutting the door. She began rummaging through the kitchen shelves when Miranda cleared her throat.

Andy spun around. Miranda held a box of matches. "I could kiss you," Andy said as she crossed the small room, grabbing the matches and heading to the stove. The owners of the cabin had left a small tin of, she leaned down and smelled the can to double check, paraffin soaked wood chips. This made lighting the fire child's play and two spoonsful of wood chips and a bit of the kindling and there was the sweet, sweet sound of a crackling fire. She quickly added a few larger pieces. She'd need to get more wood.

Andy remembering Miranda turned to her, "I need to go out to the shed again and get more wood. We can get the snow from outside and boil it. I'll look for something to eat when I get back. Just stay here okay." And then without a second thought Andy kissed Miranda's forehead and headed outside. As she arrived at the shed she realized what she had done and tripped over her own feet. 'I'll blame the concussion,' she thought. Though in truth she was just so relieved that they had fire and shelter nothing else really mattered at the moment.

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Andy loaded up a box she found in the shed and hurried into the cabin. The snow was really coming down. As she brushed off most of it she realized that the cabin glowed with candles and there was a large pot of snow already melting on the stove.

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"There is a box of pancake mix, crackers, coffee, powdered milk, dried meat and unopened jar of pickles," Miranda announced as she walked in.

"Wow. That's better than I had hoped. Did you check all the cabinets?" Andy set the wood down as she asked; noticing that Miranda's shoes were set next to the wood stove and were soaking wet. She took off her own shoes and also set them to dry.

"No, not all of them," she continued to open the last remaining cabinet.

"I had hoped you'd find that." Andy indicated the bottle of whiskey in the last cabinet.

"Really Andréa," she asked drolly.

"Did you find a first aid kit?" Andy sat on the sofa. She'd feed in some large wood in a moment.

"No," Miranda sat next to her on the couch, a tiny groan escaping.

"Then yeah. I'm sore, really sore and I don't think I'll turn down a drink to ease the pain. I would have preferred Tylenol for my headache though." Andy yawned and then forced herself up and added more wood to the fire. She grabbed the whiskey, dried meat and crackers dropped them off on the table and grabbed a couple of glasses and headed back to the sofa. "Well it's not the dinner I thought I'd be having tonight." She pushed it towards Miranda, who after rolling her eyes leaned back into the sofa and grabbed a couple of pieces of meat and crackers. Andy helped herself, first she poured a glass of whiskey for herself and then another for Miranda. She grabbed a little pile of crackers and dried meat and began to eat. The whiskey burned a bit as it slid down warming her from the inside. She relaxed a bit more. The day had taken its toll and she felt as her eyelids began to drop. Miranda poked her.

"You can't fall asleep." Miranda sipped at her whiskey.

"What?"

"You were knocked out. You probably have a concussion. You have to stay awake."

Andy rubbed her eyes. Pain flared up. Miranda wasn't the only one going to have a black eye tomorrow it seemed. She stood and fed the fire again before she looked around. There were a set of built in drawers under the bed. She shuffled over in her socks. She pulled open the drawers and found extra blankets and clean wool sweaters, pants and under shirts. "Yes." Andy felt every wet inch of her clothes sticking to her. "I found clothes and extra blankets."

Andy turned holding her prizes only to receive a glare. "I…"

"Absolutely not." Miranda continued glaring and added the pursuing of her lips.

"Fine, you can stay in your stylish clothes but I want to be dry and warm." She lifted her arm to pull up her sweater and with a hiss brought it back down.

"What happened," Miranda asked crossing the room and coming to a standstill in front of Andy.

"I can't lift my arm high enough to take off my sweater." Andy felt like crying.

"Here, let me." Miranda reached out and tugged the sweater up, mindful of Andy's sore arm.

Andy felt herself shake. In every dream, this was not how this happened. Andy mentally berated herself. Miranda was only helping. Then Miranda reached for her next layer, peeling it off. Miranda sucked in a sharp breath, starling Andy who looked down. There was a deep purple, nearly black bruise from shoulder to hip. "I think it's from the seat belt."

Miranda hmmed and with a shaking hand, reached out a touch Andy's skin; her fingers felt cool against the bruise as she gently traced the damage.

"It's just sore," Andy whispered not wanting to break whatever moment they were in. When Miranda tore her eyes away from Andy's skin, Andy saw them fill with water.

"You could have died," Miranda whispered into the space between them. Andy gathered Miranda's hands and held them between them, pressed between their chests. They stood so close their elbows lightly skimmed one another. Miranda licked her lips and then the wood in the fire shifted and fell, breaking the moment. Miranda stepped back, her eyes dry again, and reached for the wool shirt. She tugged it on to Andy's torso.

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"We need more wood. I'll be right back." Without saying more Andy popped her boots on and headed out with the flash light. A quick trip to the outhouse, which thankfully had a bottle of anti-bacterial hand wash, and a few big pieces of wood and Andy was back inside. She slipped off her boots, set a large wood piece into the oven and then scooped out a bit of the warm, but still not boiling water with a nearby ladle. Taking the water over to the sink she washed her hand with some dish soap. There were a few books on the shelves. She grabbed them and a few of the blankets. Without saying more she dropped the blankets and books on the couch.

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She headed back over towards the bed and slipped off her pants. The wool layer under them was still dry so she kept those on. She went back to the couch and carefully curled into one corner, draped a blanket over her legs and began to read. It was going to take hours for the cabin to warm up.

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After a little time, Miranda mimicked Andy's pose and picked up a book. Cowboy poetry, Andy read on the cover. She tried to imagine what Nigel would say to this wholly domestic scene. What he would say about Andy reading a book about wildlife and Miranda thumbing through poetry while a fire crackled in a hunting cabin. Not even in her wildest dreams could she have imagined this moment but it was happening. With a soft smile Andy turned her attention back to her book. She noticed when Miranda added more wood to the stove that the room finally felt warm. Andy laid the book down. She was tired and her headache was better. She looked at her watch. It was nearly midnight.

"Miranda," Andy's voice was rusty from non-use. She cleared her throat. "I'm going to bed."

"You shouldn't sleep Andréa."

"I'm sure I'm fine. I'm just going," she thumbed towards the door. Andy slipped the boots back on and grabbed the flash light. She grabbed a few more pieces of wood for the fire on her way back in.

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Andy yawned as she came in the door. She wasn't going to be able to stay awake, concussion or not. She kicked off her boots and headed to the bed. "Good night Miranda."

A moment later Andy heard the door open and shut, Miranda had stepped outside. She waited, ears straining for sound. Again the door opened and shut. Andy heard the candles being blown out one by one. Only one candle remained lit. Andy could see its soft glow as it cast shadows on the wall. She watched as the shadow twisted and turned in a hypnotic dance. Sounds filtered in and she realized she had been watching the shadow of Miranda change clothing. She closed her eyes but the sounds of moving fabric filtered in and cast wild pictures in her mind. A moment later the candle was blown out and Miranda slid into bed.

Andy felt the words first. They were breathed out against her neck, the quiet hum of sounds, too low to make out but loud enough to register. Andy turned and came face to face with Miranda. Miranda's hand reached up and gently stroked Andy's face, her hair, her ears. The strokes were continuous and Andy felt herself melting into Miranda, her own hands joined and traced Miranda face, her hair, her ears; the constant reassurance of touch. "I'm okay," Andy whispered into the darkness. "I'm okay."

Miranda's fingers traced Andy's lips and her eyebrows. They traveled over her cheeks and chin; they carefully wandered over her hairline until Andy lowered her own hands and closed her eyes. Before she drifted off to sleep, she felt Miranda gently kiss her. "I couldn't have borne it if you had died," Andy felt the word float over her lips before another kiss was pressed to them.

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Andy reached for Miranda and only felt empty cooled blankets. She opened her eyes. It had only been a few hours since the last time she had woken. Miranda had woken her in the middle of the night, asking her questions before gently stroking her skin until she fell asleep again. Andy stretched, noticing the room was very warm, the candles were lit and coffee was cooking on the stove. Miranda must have stayed up all night stoking the fire. As she sat up she could feel the tightness in her body, but she could lift her arm. It still hurt of course, but it was a lot better than the night before. She pulled off her wool top wanting to see the bruise. As she was inspecting it the door swung open and Miranda stepped in. She came to a stop before abruptly turning and shutting the door. Andy didn't say anything, just shrugged the shirt back on.

"Is that the Amoralle from their fall line?" Miranda's voiced wavered.

"Yes." Andy tugged the shirt down a bit more. "Nigel gave it to me."

"Nigel gives you lingerie?" Miranda kept her back to Andy.

Andy rose from bed and began straightening the bed. "He did for Christmas, thought it would bring me luck on New Year's Eve."

"And did it," Miranda asked as she turned to face Andy.

"I think so, maybe not in the ways he imagined." Andy left the bed and moved closer to Miranda.

"I don't think I like Nigel imaging you getting lucky." Miranda lifted one eyebrow.

Andy smiled, "I don't think that's what I said." Without waiting for more she leaned in and kissed Miranda. Their lips brushed together trading soft pecks and shaky breaths until Miranda lifted her hand, resting it behind her ear and caressed her cheek with her thumb. Andy ran her fingers down her spine pulling their bodies close. Their hearts beat against one another for a moment until Miranda stepped back, offering one more kiss and then a soft smile. She poured them both a cup of coffee. Andy noticed that Miranda was dressed and the detritus from the night before was gone.

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They sipped their coffee quietly. It was still early.

"Andréa we can't ever be more than this," Miranda began setting her empty cup aside and then standing and washing it in the left over water.

Andy expected this. She had hoped that it would be different of course but she had expected Miranda to deny them again. She took another sip. Stop and try to settle for someone, of course she'd have to quit because seeing Miranda, everyday would kill any other relationships. Or wait and when Miranda was ready, quit and be with Miranda. She wanted a love that even time would lie down and be still for and no matter how many people she dated Miranda was the only one she would always want. She finished her coffee.

"Okay."

"Okay? What do you mean okay?" Miranda waited.

"Okay. If you want nothing more from me then a few traded kisses, even though I could be so much more to you, well I can't make you love me." Andy went and washed her cup before drying both cups and putting them away. She reached over and took the last of the coffee and poured it out before washing the pan and drying it.

Miranda stood stock still and evaluated Andy. Andy just tried to remain calm. She made her choice, Miranda and it would take as long as it took.

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"It's not that I don't love you," Miranda began. Andy felt her hands shake as she put away the last of the dishes and drained the sink. "There's just… I'm your boss. Also my daughters and you're young. You have your whole career ahead of you. You'll meet some else."

"Okay, I understand. I won't meet anyone else though. I've been trying for 5 years. I realized anyone else would be settling and I don't want that so if you don't want me because I work for you, I can quit."

"I don't want you to quit," Miranda nearly yelled.

"Well then it's your daughters."

"It doesn't really matter why, just that we can't." Miranda turned away, checking that the fire was out. "We should go. Nigel should be here any minute."

"What? How," Andy sputtered out.

"My phone has 1 bar at the end of the driveway now that the storm has passed." Miranda opened the door and went outside, presumably to wait.

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Andy changed her clothes. She folded up the wool and put it away; she cleaned out the stove. All the candles were put away and with a last look at the dim cabin, she said goodbye. She closed and locked the door. Returned the ax and keys to where she hoped they went and headed towards the main road. Miranda stood there, her Runway mask in place. "You won't lose me Miranda, even if we are only friends." Andy kept her eyes on the road. She could make out the team's rental van and the police making their way towards them.

"Friends, I'm not sure we can do friends Andréa." Miranda didn't look away from the approaching vehicles.

"Sure we can. Invite me to dinner at the house once in a while." Andy turned her head slightly.

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Miranda didn't answer. Nigel came to a stop and the police right behind him. "The police and a tow truck." Miranda nodded towards Nigel pleased that he had the forethought to have the car towed. Miranda walked away directing the police and tow truck to where the car was lying before demanding Nigel drive them both to the hospital:

"The hospital," Nigel asked as he jumped into the van.

"Yes, Andréa is hurt."

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Nothing more was said. Friends. Well, Andy thought, that's more than they were last month.


End file.
